ACE COMBAT: The Usean Continental War
by EyeoftheProphet
Summary: The story follows Bravo 1 and the ground forces of ISAF as they retake their homeland from the Erusean invaders. Shadowy figures on both sides are fighting a "shadow" war meant to destabilize the current power balance on the continent, a war which Bravo 1 is slowly being driven into. Nobody knows who is funding the war, but one thing is for sure, Bravo 1 must survive the deception
1. Chapter 1

**OPERATION FIREFLY**

* * *

 **July 9, 2010**

 **2200 Hours**

* * *

 **Part I**

"This is it. We're taking back San Slavacion's capital tonight." said Chef as he hopped onto the side of the Blackhawk, M16 in hand. "Time for some fucking revenge." He turned back and grinned at the squad.

Bravo 1 was well rested and ready to begin operations in San Salvacion since the events of Operation Aurora. For this new operation, James McCallan, an army translator was attached to the squad. Anton knew it was going to be an interesting and dangerous mission when he heard that they would need an Erusean translator. Much to the surprise of Anton, the briefing had been relatively short, despite being such a critical operation. Codenamed Operation Firefly, the operation would begin with a detachment of Chef's squad being airdropped into rebel held territory near the outskirts of Old Towne. They would then sneak into the region's main Water and Power building near the downtown area in Old Towne with the help of resistance forces and end the blackout over the city. The resistance had blown up the control tower and one of the runways in San Profetta airport prior to the operation beginning, so besides some choppers, no aerial forces were to be expected. Bravo 2 through 8, part of the Second Battalion, would aid Bravo 1 and disrupt major communications between the Eruseans in the different districts of the city. From there, the main attack force would begin the second phase of the operation and it was mission critical to get the power back on. ISAF Air Command was not willing to risk bombing in heavily populated areas unless the power was back on to confirm targets and improve visibility.

Anton walked out of the Barracks onto the tarmac and instantly blasted by a heavy cold wind, sending a thunderbolt down his spine. James, the Erusean translator attached to the squad for this operation came out with coffee "It's a chilly night, isn't it?" he said as he sipped. It was so cold Anton just nodded his head and smiled.

As Bravo 1 boarded the chopper, Simple and Squid stared out into the dark horizon. Dozens of jets glistened in the night quietly as little lights erupted on the runways in the distance. Stealth helicopters carrying Bravo 2, 3, and 4 were already taking off. As the equipment was loaded onto the helicopter, Simple broke the unnerving silence, "So…this should be an easy gig right? Were just sneaking into some old house and flipping a switch. Im good with that." Everyone was quiet for a few seconds when suddenly Altman blurted out "Good god are you retarded? We're going into a hell hole alone you idiot…always simplifying the situation." James stared at Altman in fear. He had never seen him so mad. Simple noticed the tension and took his seat quietly. Everyone knew Altman got pre operation gitters so nobody egged Altman on or called him out on his outburst. "God dammit…", Altman said under his breath.

"Were going to be okay guys, just stick to the plan." Santi said in a calm voice and stared out into the distance, preoccupied with mission logistics with Chef. Anton saw more activity out in the distance. Bravo 6 and Bravo 7 were taking off. Their rotors tore through the misty ambience and the lights of the helicopters became brighter and came to life. In the distance, airbase ground crew began ushering out Bravo 8 and 5 onto the tarmac.

"Everyone strap yourselves in, we're up." the pilot of the unmarked Blackhawk said in a monotone, robotic voice.

"Make sure you're all loaded up." Chef said as he munched on a granola bar he had taken from the cafeteria. Anton's heart began to race as Bravo 7 and Bravo 6 dashed into the mist. The helicopter rotors began slowly fluttering but quickly evolved into deafening thuds. The ground crew began signaling with batons and the helicopter lifted off slowly. The helicopter doors closed, illuminating the inside of the helicopter with a red hue.

The helicopter ride over was uneventful for the majority of the time. Chef and Santi were still discussing mission logistics while everyone else either stared down at their feet or attempted to close their eyes. Turbulence from the high winds made it difficult to concentrate on anything. Anton turned on his radio to listen to local radio stations. There was only static.

An announcement rang out from the cockpit "Welcome to San Salvacion", prompting everyone to look outside. The city looked almost invisible in the dark background. Only the black silhouettes of the helicopters danced along the rural hills illuminated by the moon. The blackout was in effect across the city.

"5 minutes…get ready for drop off Bravo 1," said the pilot when suddenly an explosion in the distance rocked the helicopter to the right.

"Fuck what was that? Turbulence?" said Altman nervously.

"Bird 6 is down! Bird 6 is down!" yelped one of the pilots through the radio.

"Bravo 6…well there goes our support squad. Just fucking GREAT," Squid whined as he gripped onto the railing.

"This is Bird 4, were taking AA fire and SAM fire right above the general hospital in New Town, everyone be advised!"

Just then a disgusting buzzing erupted from the cockpit of the helicopter. That could only mean one thing.

"TARGET LOCK on Bird 1! Evasive maneuvers, hold on!" Everyone threw themselves onto their seats, visibly bewildered by the rapid turn of events. Altman stared with wide eyes at Altman looking for comfort, but could find none. Anton was panicking as his heart dropped, wondered if he would die in this flying metal sarcophagus.

The helicopter flipped left and a stinging slap rang throughout the metal frame of the helicopter.

"This is Bird 1! We got clipped on our rear rotor…cant stabilize!" screamed the pilot and she clutched her control. "Were making an emergency landing near New Towne! Mark our position and send rescue!"

The skilled pilot was able to drop the helicopter to a safer altitude but the heavy winds would not let the helicopter stabilize. Eventually, the pilot could no longer control the helicopter as it spun out of control toward a suburban area in New Towne.

"Everyone hold on!" screamed the pilots.

The world slowed down, every second became an hour to Bravo 1. The incessant spinning and fear made Anton sick to his stomach as he sprayed his pants with particles of vomit. The helicopter slammed straight into a building, instantly killing the pilots.

"EVERYONE ON ME." Yelled Chef as he busted open a side door and jumped out. Anton stumbled through the burning doorframe and ran into an alley where the squad had taken cover.

"Are the pilots all right? Lets get them out!" yelled Anton.

"Not a chance. They got waffled back there. They died on impact." Chef said as he tried to collect himself.

"Where are we?!" whispered Santi as he taught his breath.

"No idea but were far from the objective that's for sure. I think the pilot said we're in New Town or something like that." Chef said. "Simple run back and get our supply crate."

"What the fuc…yessir!" Simple hesitated as he ran toward the torched helicopter rubble.

"Judging by the Erusean district signs, I say we are in northern New Towne as of right now." James whispered.

Chef grabbed his radio. "This is Bravo 1. We are stranded in New Towne." he said and then read off his GPS position as he signaled Santi for a paper and pencil.

"Listen closely. There is a resistance pocket in our area that can still get us to Old Towne before things heat up even more. They have already been contacted and are a few blocks down the street. These blokes aren't heavily armed so the less Eruseans we drag with us the better. Everyone on me and radio silence!" said Chef as he got off the radio.

Anton halfheartedly listened and was more preoccupied with the bodies of the pilots. Anton didn't know if they had crashed into a butcher shop or if the pilots had really been split apart as much as they did. He honestly couldn't tell the difference.

Simple ran back with a semi burnt green crate. As soon as he arrived the squad assembled in staggered formation out of the alley and ran out of the area to avoid any Eruseans attempting to check out the crash site.

"Whats going on?!" Simple huffed as he ran down the dark, cold stony streets.

"Just follow Chef…" Squid said as he followed behind Santi.

Santi kept looking back periodically. He had a bad feeling like someone was following them like a rabid mouse in a maze looking for cheese.

Simple occasionally heard foot steps in the distance but said nothing until he saw Santi's worried face.

"You heard that too huh…I feel like we're being watched." Santi told Simple as he held is rifle up to his shoulder and looked up into the windows of nearby homes and shops.

The squad hid from hordes of Eruseans along with search dogs heading toward the crash site.

"It wont be long before thy catch our scent. Keep moving" Chef said with stern eyes. The team made it out a good two kilometers from the crash site before making it to a large plaza with shops and an old church.

The team ran in between empty wooden fruit stands and hid in the shadows.

"Everyone take a knee. They should be here…" Chef said nervously.

"Who? What?" Simple whisphered.

"Resistance..." Altman whispered back as his eyes hovered around the countless windows of shops and homes. He held up his rifle in anticipation.

"This is Bravo 4, were taking artillery fire! They know were here! Speed it up we don't have much time!" cackled loudly through Anton's radio. He forgot to shut off his radio. Everyone immediately stared at Anton with a death stare when suddenly fire from a Kalashnikov lit up a building in the distance, making everyone throw themselves down onto the ground. Two raggedy men in ski masks and trench coats with assault rifles ran across the plaza toward them. They began firing back toward the building and were met with fire from across the street. Some stray bullets landed onto the squad and luckily missed, with the exception of a stray bullet that cracked Chef's radio. Suddenly more pops rang out in the distance. One bullet slammed into the chest of one of the masked shooters, instantly dropping him. He tried crawling and babbled something at the team before he choked on his own blood. The other was killed when a round cracked his skull open and passed through his cheek bone, spraying liters of blood onto the pavement of the plaza.

The squad was well hidden but pretty soon someone would come search the bodies.

"Those aren't our guys…nobody else is in the area. Take aim!" Chef told the squad. The squad remained prone, waiting for the attackers to walk up. Five minutes passed but strangely nobody had come to search the bodies.

Chef began to whisper something to Santi. Santi said nothing and just stared out into the plaza. Santi looked back at Simple. Simple only nodded his head. There was definitely something going on that he team wasn't aware of.

A couple shots would intermittently fly around the plaza with incessant pops ringing . A large building across the street in the distance was being lit up. Screams in the distance could be head with the occasional explosion. Santi grabbed binoculars and looked out.

As he stared out his lips trembled. All he could do was point toward the building where the distant fire was coming from.

"Oh…holy shit." Is all Chef uttered from his trembling lips. "I think that was the resistance hideout!"

The squad confirmed that they had arrived at the resistance meetup point, but they had not expected the Eruseans to have followed right behind them. Just then, fireballs erupted around the plaza, throwing bricks and debris sky high.

"GET THE FUCK OUT, ON MY ASS NOW!" Chef screamed as he ran into a street. Everyone drew out their weapons and dashed out into the dizzying maze of shops and houses. The alley seemed to collapse on itself as Eruseans poured in to encircle the squad.

The squad took a staggered line formation as they ran down the alley shooting at anything that moved. The Eruseans hadn't expected the squad to make such an aggressive movement and failed to encircle Bravo 1 at the cost of about a dozen men.

They had almost lost the Eruseans when an armored jeep pulled up into one of the exits in the alley and opened fire. James had staggered behind and was torn apart by the 50 call on the jeep. There was nothing left but rags and meat.

"Translator down! Goddammit you Erusean whores!" yelled Anton.

"Keep moving!" screamed Chef in a high pitched ragged voice.

Erusean chanting, screeching wheels, and the thumping of marching boots echoed throughout the walls of the old narrow streets.

The team jumped across a chain linked fence and made it out of the maze under the cover of darkness. It was times like these where the blackout came to kick the Eruseans in the ass. They managed to buy enough time so that they could open a man hole near an abandoned factory complex and hide in the sewer system until the Eruseans dispersed.

Everyone dragged themselves out of the clogged sewer. Their boots were filled with water and shit but if it meant survival and mission success, they didn't care. Not a single person complained, mostly because they were glad to be alive. It really hit Anton that if they died out here, nobody would know and their failure could mean failure of the mission and the deaths of thousands. The ground shook periodically. Eruseans were still shelling areas with rebels fighting out in the distance.

"We can go now…" Chef whispered. He slowly removed the manhole cover and peeked outside. Not a soul was present. Chef motioned for the team to sneak out and hide in the abandoned factory complex.

It was completely empty except for the occasional trash piles and liquor bottles. The fires in the distance lit up the large cracked tinted windows, making it seem as if this factory was but a cathedral giving the only sanctuary during Armageddon.

"Were going to need to find other pockets of resistance" Chef said. "We will not make our deadline if we walk over, especially if it means walking through traps like these."

"I agree" Simple whined. "That was too close and we've already lost our translator."

"Yeah, were heading this way" Chef said as he pointed at the burning suburb in the distance.

"Um are you sure about that Chef?" Santi said bewildered.

"Yeah you're taking us into a literal hell hole that is still being hammered by rockets and artillery." Squid added on.

Chef crunched up his eyes and nose in annoyment. "Look around you ding dongs!" He said as he turned toward everyone and then toward the burning city, hands raised in the air like a preacher. "You're surrounded by Eruseans and complaining that you don't want to enter hell. Don't you get it? You ARE in hell. You were in Hell the moment you decided to board that God forsaken helicopter!"

"Yeah but youre throwing us into a live area with artillery fire! You don't go into artillery fire, you get out of it!" Squid retorted.

"Well have fun looking for resistance out there in the darkness like a bind man, dumbass. I'm going toward the fire, where I know for certain there are rebels that can get us to our target. The Eruseans aren't shelling that area for shits and giggles." Chef scoffed. "Anyone else have a better idea then?"

The factory floor stayed quiet. Only distant thunder could be heard. Everyone knew Chef was right. They either took their chances with the hordes of Eruseans hiding in the dark or maneuvered through artillery fire and found rebels they could get in contact with. Either way they were dead but there was a greater chance of success heading toward the burning part of town.

"I thought so fucking pussies. Load up and form up on me." said Chef.

* * *

 **Part II**

* * *

Small orange embers burned his exposed skin and dried his lungs as he caught his breath in the thick black smoke. The squad raced down the black, stony alleys and reached a small marketplace. An office building had recently been shelled, setting ablaze mountains of papers and combustibles. Papers still fluttered into the air from a recent artillery strike when a second barrage of rockets began pounding buildings across the street, followed by various civilian militiamen running through partially illuminated streets into cover. One shell landed on top of the burning office building, throwing debris onto the street and knocking down Anton and Simple.

"Over here! Get in! HURRY!" yelled Santi. Anton helped Simple get up and everyone dashed over to a murky cellar door next to a car garage and boarded up bar that Santi opened up. A small winery was the squad's salvation from inevitable death by molten shrapnel. They hurriedly stumbled down the creaky wooden steps as the shelling intensified.

The squad huddled together in a corner of the small winery, praying that the shelling would miss.

"Fucking Eruseans…..are just…. blindly shelling the…. whole damn coast at random…this is good." Chef wheezed to the squad as he tried catching his breath.

"Wait what…what the fuck is good about shelling civvies like this?!" yelled Altman through the deafening bombardment.

"Use your brain, dummy. This means that they have no idea where we are. These morons are literally firing into the darkness of their own blackout!" Chef said as he let out a chuckle. "In other words, we still have the element of surprise. Now…can anyone get coms? My radio is shredded. Let's figure out our game plan now that our rendezvous point is compromised while we wait for our lovely Eurasian monkeys to shut their yaps."

"Ive got coms sir. Ill patch you in." Santi pulled out a radio from his SMERSH and handed it to the captain.

Alright lets see what command has to say on this fucking mess, said Chef. "Yes…Command? This is Captain Dillinger from Bravo 1 in Second Company. Our rendez point was compromised and well..let's just say we couldn't find what was left of our contact. We need to know the safest and fastest possible route to the regional water and power department building to end the blackout."

Everyone stopped what they were doing and listened in to Chef's radio conversation.

"Yes this is Corporal Yaeger from Intel on the line. Hmmm..thats unfortunate Captain. Let me pass you to Sgt. Santos, sir."

"This is Sergeant Santos. I've heard about the situation. Give me coordinates on your current position."

"That's a no can do sir, its dark as shit and im stuck in a cellar waiting for shelling to stop in the middle of town. Were at least 10 clicks due north from our drop off point" Chef yelled as the shelling continued to rattle the empty wine bottles in the room.

"Alright…We've created a secondary route for you but you're going to have to link up with Riley's Armored Battalion down near 12th District in New Town. They're heading over to clear out armor in Old Towne and Route 7 with Tango 3 but they can drop you off on the way so you gotta make it quick. Got it?"

"Fuck do they even know that downtown its literally infested with ruzzies? We're better off blowing our balls off than running out there without air cover!" Simple groaned loudly. Everyone turned to Simple and then to Chef, waiting for a verbal onslaught. Chef stared at Simple with wide eyes and fuming nostrils but remained glued listening to Sgt. Santos on the radio.

"Sir..downtown is literally packed with Erusean armor hunkered in. Any chance for air support?" said Chef.

"No. Command has explicitly stated that there will be no artillery or air support in your AO until the blackout ends in order to minimize civilian casualties in San Salvation's dense districts. The operation in Old Towne depends on your success Captain, so I suggest you start moving soon."

"If you havent noticed, Eruseans are shelling the damn city already, theres no one left! And also, where are the other squads in charge of meeting up with us?" asked Chef

" Orders are orders Captain. Bravo 6 got blown out of the sky and Bravo 8 is pinned down and lost. I haven't heard from anyone else. It's a mess to be honest with you, and your squad is the only one able to move up. I know your men can get it done Javier. Santos out."

"So are they sending Mobius to help us clear out downtown for us in all his glory, JAVIER?" Simple said sarcastically,

Chef walked up to Simple and suddenly grasped his collar. There was a certain humor to it all looking at a short bald man grabbing onto a tall lean kid.

"I swear Simple, unfuck yourself now or get my razor sharp cock in your mouth. Im Captain to you don't fucking forget that. Stick that in your little hick brain and shut your fucking mouth. And fuck Mobius…that overrated prick flyboy." Chef whispered in a calm manner that was frighteningly juxtaposed with his nostrils blazing and wide black eyes as he clenched Simple's collar.

In an attempt to diffuse the situation, Santi and Squid quickly jumped up and separated the two.

Santi looked Simple dead in the eye and told him "Seriously Simple. Shut…up. Fuckin' get it together Private."

Chef paced up and down the winery, his eyes glued on Simple for a good five minutes before his temper cooled. The shelling began to die down and the empty wine bottles stopped their incessant shaking.

While the captain recalibrated the radio and everyone else calmed their nerves, Squid walked over to a cabinet, peaked in and looked at Anton and them with a wide grin. He pulled out a wine bottle, took a swig, and began passing it down.

Out of the dank, dark corner the Captain emerged once again after collecting his thoughts.

"You all heard what we have to do" Chef said calmly, "We're linking up with Riley's bucket army of Abrams near downtown. Its going to be a bitch but that's our only option and if we fuck this one up, we lose any chance of air cover for this op. We lose our air cover, we lose San Profetta airport. We lose the airport, the Ruzzies glass our armor in Old Towne and Route 7. Once theyre out, its over. If any of you makes it out of downtown, get the engineering pack and haul ass to meet with Major Rigley and don't look back. We need someone to repair that generator wiring at any cost. Is that clear?" said Chef with conviction.

"Yes Sir." Everyone replied quietly in unison like monks during prayer.

As the wine bottle emptied and got to the end of the line, an eerie silence took over the landscape once more. Everyone stayed quiet and look at each other for what seemed like an eternity. The shelling finally stopped.

Santi slowly creeped up the steps and creaked open the slab door and slowly peaked his head out. He looked back at Chef and gave him the "all clear" signal.

"That's our signal. Load up and lets move." yelled Chef in his signature raspy voice. The team hustled up the creaky wooden steps and rifles clanking in the darkness. Screams could be heard in the distance and sporadic small arms fire once again resonated in the dark streets ahead. Despite the chaotic ambience, Chef looked at his map quietly alongside Corporal Santiago and looked at his watch. He looked up at the team silently and then at two beat up cars inside a garage that had miraculously survived the onslaught of the Erusean shelling.

Altman , Squid, and Anton looked out into the partially illuminated streets listening in to hear where the shooting was happening. Simple took a seat on the curb and loaded his empty M16 magazines.

"EY! Someone know how to hotwire a car?" he said with a smirk, breaking the focus of the four.

Everyone looked around silently wondering what was on Chefs mind.

"I do cap'n! I always used to hotwire hunks of junk like this. I used to resell what Id tak…" Simple said eagerly before being cut off by Chef.

"Good. Lets get to it. Oh..and make sure you all have your AT4s loaded. " Said Chef abruptly. "Santi, youre going with Squid and Simple in car one. Altman, Anton, youre on me in car two. Squid and I will take the wheel."

In mere seconds the cars huffed and screeched, their dusty headlights illuminating a dirty calendar and old weathered news clippings that had been tacked onto the walls of the garage.

"Wooeee! Look at that country boy is on point today" Squid cheered.

"Yeah well we gotta make it quick cuz these cars are bone dry and outta fuel." said Simple cautiously as he patted the clanking hood of one of the cars.

"Lets hurry it up and get going then. Break off your windshields and each car will set up an LMG on the passenger's side. Anton…take Squids gat set it up on the dash. Sati set up yours in the other car. We're blitzing these ruzzies and making a run for downtown ." rasped Chef "Don't stop under any circumstances, got it Squid?"

"Aye sir! Full speed ahead. " Squid shouted, followed by a devilish grin. Going in guns blazing, this was Squids style.

The two teams loaded up into the car with Chefs car taking the lead.

"Radio check….no headlights Capt'n?" Santis voice garbled through the radio.

"No lights for you, we'll be the only ones with tail lights so you can follow us through the dark" responded Altman.

Santi's "Roger" was muffled by the huffing of the car engine.

The two cars exited the garage and began driving down the alley.

Downtown was about 15 miles away from the current position and exact Erusean strength in the area was unknown. For all they knew, they were running full speed into an Erusean checkpoint and get blown out of the sky Anton thought to himself. Maybe that is why Chef had split them into two cars, after all, never put all your eggs in the same basket.

Anton clenched the grip of his machine gun in anticipation with his sweaty hands and put on his goggles to shield his eyes from the ember filled wind. The cars went off at full speed down a highway. The thought of running into a bullet without any front protection terrified Anton. Anton's legs began to shake incessantly, causing the car to shake enough to cause alarm.

"Yo what the hell is that…is this junk falling apart already?" Altman yelled against the wind slamming against his face.

Chef smacked Anton's leg and gripped it in place. Chef quickly turned his gaze to Anton, "Hey..its alright. Relax..."

Anton wasnt expecting that sort of response from a belligerent leprechaun-ish man like Chef, who was seconds away from ripping Simples head right off his spine a few minutes ago.

Squids car was still bumping along following behind through the burning silent streets, leaving Anton to believe if there was even any Eruseans left in the area. Or maybe it was just him hoping that he wouldn't get his head blown off in an ambush.

The cars made a turn onto the main highway. The iconic skyscrapers of downtown San Salvation's 12th District could be seen hovering above plumes of smoke. They were nearly there.

Out in the distance two little grey silhouettes were out in the middle of the highway. As they neared, the two silhouettes were more visible…Eruseans. "Fuck. Speak of the devil…" Anton said as he brought up his LMG's stock to his cheek in a firing position and cocked it.

The two Erusean soldiers patrolling were caught off guard.

"What….shit I see them! Hold on!" Chef screamed as he slammed on the gas.

"HEY FUCKERS, FLOOR IT! WE GOT RUZZIES AT OUR 12!" Altman yelled into the radio.

The cars went in overdrive, screaming down the highway. Anton slammed down on the trigger. Bullet shells flew all around the car, and in the distance the two soldiers fell. As the car cleared the smoke, the two Eruseans multiplied into at least twenty soldiers attempting to construct a blockade.

"OPEN UP!" Chef screamed.

*KAKAKAKAKAAKAA*

Gun powder filled Antons nostrils as he fired round after round. The Eruseans returned fire, but luckily only grazed Anton's shoulder and flicked Altman's Kevlar helmet. As the cars zoomed by the unfinished wooden blockade, Chef slammed the car right into an Erusean soldier, launching him in the air.

"Erusean air force…" Altman cackled nervously, then silently patted down his helmet and head as he caught his breath.

Anton turned his head back and saw that the car behind finished the airborne Erusean, throwing him off the highway guardrail .

"That run back there ate up a lot of fuel…goddamn it." Chef said under his breath. Headlights appeared from the black smoke ahead. From the distance, it looked like at least five jeeps with mounted guns.

"Get ready guys…" Chef told Altman and Anton.

Anton brought the lmg back up to his shoulder. He licked his dry lips and had his full attention straight ahead, waiting for the order to fire.

As they neared the headlights, there was no fire coming from the supposed jeeps ahead. As the cars neared, they noticed jeeps weren't even Erusean at all. The highway was littered with abandoned civilian vehicles. The cars slowed down to maneuver around the highway, rattled with wreckage of cars of people who attempted to escape the battle. Burnt our cars with luggage strapped to the top were all around with clothes, melted plastic toys, paperwork, and burning trash all strewn around the highway. There was nothing but black burnt bodies in cars and others with bullet holes in their head, execution style.

"Holy shit those were refugees…those fucking Fascists!" Altman yelled.

The bodies and smell took Anton back to when the Ulysses fragments made the survivors of his family refugees. Flashbacks of being loaded up on trucks and sent to Erusean refugee camps and driving by roads rattled with crushed bodies and burn out remains of homes came back to him. Anton quickly refocused and checked the amount of ammo left for the lmg.

After clearing the highway of wreckage, the cars abruptly got off the highway as they neared downtown.

As soon as the two cars reached the off ramp, RPG fire from a nearby warehouse overlooking the highway barely missed the two cars. Squid managed to swerve out of the way just in time.

The cars hobbled onto the street, they were closing in on the rendezvous point…shaken, but alive.

"Holy shit man…." Altman said nervously. "Are we good?" he asked on the radio.

"Yeah were go…!"

Before Santi could finish, an APC blasted out of an alley and slammed into the second car at full speed.

"FUCK! NO!" Altman screamed.

Anton's eyes locked onto the wreckage. "No fucking way they survived that….oh god " Anton said in shock

"Goddamn it, Squid! We cant help them, we have to keep moving! We have no choice!" Chef yelped.

The car raced and bumped down the street, flanked by burning, blown out skyscrapers. In the distance, a squad of Eruseans began creeping up on the wreckage of Squid's car. There was no radio response from anyone of them. The car made a quick right past a blown out mall and that was the last they saw of Squid's car.

Just as Chef had said, they kept going at full speed. They were about five minutes from the rendezvous point to meet with Riley's armored column.

Two Erusean jeeps took off from a nearby parking garage, chasing after them. The Eruseans started firing at the car, blowing out one of the tires.

Anton handed the lmg to Altman and Altman quickly loaded the lmg and unloaded a whole belt of ammunition on both of them.

One of the rounds slammed into the chest of one of the drivers, causing the jeep to lean right and block the second jeep behind it that was trying to speed up ahead. The second jeep tried to avoid crashing into the damaged jeep in front but ended up flipping over as it hit a light post. The Erusean gunner regained control of the first jeep and kept up the chase. He could no longer fire on Chefs car but he was reporting their position to other Eruseans in the area.

"We'll lose him in the alley!" yelled Chef.

The mangled car barely managed to screech into a narrow alley. The limber Erusean jeep quickly followed in the distance and was gaining speed toward them.

Altman fired off the remaining rounds from the machine gun but the persistent jeep sped up even more.

"I...I cant hit him!" yelped Altman.

To their dismay, an armored Erusean jeep entered the alleyway from the opposite side. Without any machine gun belt ammunition to penetrate the jeeps armor, they were surrounded.

The white headlights blinded the three doomed grunts in the car. The Eruseans got out of the armored truck in front and drew their assault rifles. "Hand where we can see then ISAF trash!"

"God dammnit!" Chef moaned as he put his hands up to the dash and into the air. Altman and Anton followed suit.

"Alright, get out of the car!" yelled one Erusean. Chef and Anton noticed the soldier had a peculiar central Usean accent and gave each other a quick glance of counfusion. The Erusean in the back jeep brandished a short pistol and escorted all three grunts to the main armored truck. The three were then quickly blindfolded and gagged and told to kneel, despite Chef's spitting and yelling.

Anton felt the cold gravel in between his fingers as he was thrown to the ground by an Erusean.

He could hear Chefs angry mumbling and Altman's muffled cries for mercy.

Anton started breathing heavily. For all he knew nobody had made it to the rendezvous point with the gear to help the resistance take the power station and fix the cables. Altman was the only engineer in the squad left, and now they were about be executed on the spot. His dad was right, he was going to die a pathetic death in a ditch.

Anton could hear mumbling in Erusean and picked up a couple words like "prisoners" and " ammunition" but his thoughts were preoccupied with what would happen after his death. What would his family say when they hear that they've lost their only remaining child?

The Erusean from the pursuing jeep had a deep signature voice, and Anton could hear him on the radio talking to an Erusean on the other end. He heard the words "captured ISAF rats" but couldn't make anything else out of the conversation.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the cocking of a pistol next to his head. This was it. Times up he thought to himself.

A loud crack reverberated along the walls of the alley followed by a thump. Anton screamed in sheer terror through the hastily placed cloth tied around his mouth. The gravel became warm and wet. Suddenly, he could hear a thunderous clapping of boots racing toward him and the rags were removed from his eyes and mouth.

Bewildered, Anton, Chef, and Altman turned around and looked up at about five men in Erusean uniforms. Under their feet was the Erusean from the jeep that had been following them, laying in a pool of blood with a pistol still in his hand.

Anton looked at his hands, which were soaked with the blood "EW! Shit..!" he said as he quickly wiped them off on his pants.

As soon as the rags were taken off of Altman's red face, his cheeks inflated and stumbled around until a river of half-digested MRE plastered the floor around him.

Altman ran over to the car out of pure fright and quickly tumbled around in the beat up car and brought the leftover gear and weapons.

"Um….what the hell is going on?" Chef asked in astonishment.

A middle aged man in Erusean uniform walked up to Chef. His peppered greasy hair glistened in the orange lighting as looked at the ISAF patches on the squad and gave a warm smile.

"Are you the commanding officer?" he asked politely.

"Uh…yeah..?" responded Chef hesitantly.

The man responded, "Ah good. A Sergeant Santos had told us that there were some ISAF troops that had to get to a rendezvous point with a Mr. Reggie..?"

"It was Major Riley I think, dad." Said a young boy wielding an ak-74 behind the crowd of men. Anton observed him quietly. The uniform barely fit the young boy, no older than 15. These obviously weren't Eruseans.

"Ah yes, Riley. Oh how rude of me. My name is Fillipe Castellanos, Im part of the 'Mano Negra', a resistance cell operating here in the downtown area." said the older man. "This is my squad: Oscar, Ricardo, Don , and my son Samuel. And the other five guys in my truck are from my neighborhood as well. No worries, were allies."

" Your son looks a little short to be an Erusean" Anton mentioned sarcastically.

"Yes im afraid the war for liberation has called on all of us to make sacrifices…and able bodied men are hard to come by nowadays." responded Filipe somberly as he looked with worrying eyes at his son. "He wasn't supposed to come with me but he came anyways and now nowhere is safe in this city. The best I can do for him now is to give him a weapon to defend himself…"

The scene was quiet for a few seconds, but was quickly interrupted by Chef.

"Alright fuck this, I need two things. ONE, get to my rendezvous point and TWO, some goddamned answers! If you don't give me either Im getting out of here with my squad and we're taking your ride thanks to that little show you just put on!" barked Chef.

"Y..yeah what het hell was that all about!" whimpered Altman, who was still recovering from the whole ordeal.

"Alright, alright of course. Lets get in the truck and ill explain whats going on. I must tell you, we need you to get in the back and be our "prisoners" so we can get through the Erusean checkpoints ahead."

Enraged, Chef immediately responded "Wha…?!. Fuck that shit im not taking orders from a civilian! I don't even know youre Resistance! For all I know you're Erusean!"

"Well this civilian has overhead through Erusean radio chatter that all Eruseans in the downtown 12th district along a 10 kilometer radius are scrambling around looking for three ISAF soldiers driving in a beat up buggy driving like maniacs. Either you come with us and get through without any problems, or you waltz through five kilometer full of Erusean armor. So what will it be? Mind you, were on the clock for YOUR appointment, not mine. So be quick." Fillipe responded smugly.

Chef stared at him with black beady eyes, his lips trembling, overflowing with anger because he knew that Fillipe had him by the balls.

"Get in!" Chef yelled at Anton and Altman as he gestured violently toward the truck

"Good. I knew you'd see it my way. Put these on." Fillipe said as he handed the soldiers three plastic zip ties and bags to cover their heads.

"The FUCK?! Hell naw Im not putting that shit on youre crazy! We just got out of those dirty rags you threw at our faces!" yelled Altman

"Do it. It's the only way to convince the Eruseans that we have prisoners to deliver. Only that way can we get out of downtown" mentioned Felipe as he beckoned for Altman to take the zip tie and bag.

Altman slowly reached out towards Filipe's hand and slowly turned his head toward Chef.

"Do it." Chef said, and then grumbled something under his breath as he crouched into the truck and hid their weapons and equipment.

The resistance forces stayed in the alley while Fillipe and two others got in the car.

"Samuel, stay here with Ricardo and look around for others." Filipe said as he drove the truck out of the alley and back on to the street.

"Answers." Chef said loudly after taking a seat in the truck.

"Sure, we owe you that much. We were contacted through certain channels by Sgt. Santos, telling us that six ISAF soldiers were moving into our AO to get picked up by an armored unit led by a Major Riley, coming in from Route 12 in the outskirts of New Town and it was mission critical that you got there in one piece. We were given your route and planned on meeting up with y'all so we could sneak you through all the armor" Said Filipe calmly as he raced down the street.

"….and then you actually got here and stuck your dick in an Erusean bee hive. So we had to improvise and listen in on Erusean radio channels hoping to catch you. Id say we did a pretty good job considering the circumstances." Interjected one of the Resistance members in the truck.

"Um no you had us blindfolded and almost killed" replied Altman in an annoyed manner.

"We had to make sure that the guy following you radioed in saying that you were caught, that way they would stop looking for you three. Our Erusean is passable, but we would never be able to completely falsify a whole military report in full Erusean." replied Filipe.

"Damn…we lost our translator a while back. Son of a bitch…" said Chef.

"Now I have a question for you. Where are the other ISAF boys we were supposed to pick up with you? Theres only three of you." Inquired Fillipe.

The truck got quiet again.

"They didn't make it" replied Anton.

"Im sorry to hear that…I know how it feels to lose friends to war. I saw a lot of good men go down during the rebellion in '97."

"You fought during the Usean rebellion? Say it aint so, so did I. Holy crap...what division?" replied Chef in surprise.

"11th airborne. Got sent out to the outskirts of Saint Ark with around 20 guys. Lot of memories…lots of them. And you?"

"1st Armored. Was a grunt back then though. Memories. Hah!" cackled Chef ecstatically, quickly changing his tone.

"The checkpoint is up ahead….Everyone BE QUIET" Fillipe said in a rushed whisper.

The conversation was quickly halted when the truck came to an abrupt stop. They had arrived at a checkpoint.

An Erusean soldier walked around taking a look with his flashlight and asked Felipe where he was taking the prisoners.

Felipe responded something in Erusean that Anton could not hear but he could sense a feeling of panic as the Erusean slowly inched his way around the truck and opened the hatch. Seeing three ISAF soldiers with bags over their heads flanked by men in Erusean uniforms must have been enough proof to convince the Erusean to let the truck pass.

Before he left, the Erusean told Felipe "Alright you are good to go. If you report any more movement from the other ISAF soldiers in the area, let command know."

The truck went on silently for about five minutes until Altman asked "Hey…I didn't know there were more of our guys in the area."

Then it hit them. Antonin a moment of clarity responded "Huh…Bravo 2 through 8 are not in our AO and Bravo 6 was supposed to be our support squad but they got blown out of the sky over the ocean…there shouldn't be anyone else. Wait! Holy shit! Squid and them must still be alive!"

"Goddamn it! Felipe, can you get some men to go find them by any chance? Im sure theyre still alive!"

"Let me radio in and tell people to listen in on Ruzzie radio chatter. We will find them, im confident." Replied Felipe. "Ive lost contact with a team near the main highway you got off of, hopefully they found them. Ill try to contact them again."

The truck once again returned to silence, with the occasional cough from Anton. His lung still burned from all the ash he had inhaled. The road began to get bumpy and gravel started making "plinking" sounds on the armored truck as it hit the bottom of the truck.

"Where are we?" asked Altman inquisitively.

"At the rendezvous point. Thank god, and just in time too." replied Felipe. The two other men got off and opened the hatch, letting the tree go.

Felipe looked back at the three men, "Im afraid this is where we part ways Mr…?"

"Dillinger. Javier Dillinger. Hopefully we meet again and thanks for the lift." replied Chef as he got off. Chef saluted to Fillipe and shook his hand.

"Take care. Ill keep my eyes peeled for your boys Javier." Replied Fillipe as he began climbing into the front of the truck.

"Thanks again Fillipe. Good shit out there, looks like the resourceful airborne in you never left." Chef mentioned.

Fillipe pulled up his sleeve, revealing his wrinkled skin and a tattoo of the 11th airborne division's patch, a red sparrow flanked by two arrows. Fillipe gave a wide grin before he hopped back into the driver seat and drove off.

The silhouette of the truck disappeared into the horizon. Chef stared out toward the downtown skyscrapers from which they had come. Knowing that half of the squad was still out there really worried Chef. As much as he got irritated by Simple, the squad clown that never shut up, he still wanted them back in one piece.

The rendezvous point was in the rural hillsides of New Town. Soft dew had collected on some of the leaves of the maple trees surrounding a dark empty highway that Anton was facing. There was an eerie peace in the woods, almost as if there was no war at all. No sign of any tanks or any lights except for the burning city in the distance. Maybe they had missed them? Or were they in the wrong spot? The team had waited in the darkness for about 20 minutes.

The three decided to lay low under a brushy area to conceal themselves as they waited to get picked up.

To calm his nerves, Anton turned on his radio to contact any of Riley's tanks. To his dismay, he picked up nothing except for the National Broadcast radio station, which was currently playing a loop of the emergency protocol broadcast.

"Radio silence" Chef said as he got up and went into the brush to relieve himself.

Sudden soft trembling quickly became powerful reverberations that awoke Altman, who was nodding off in the dirt. He peaked his head up out of the brush and saw Abrams zooming by the highway.

"Hey….HEY! PICK UP! Lets go!" yelled Altman

Altman and Anton quickly grabbed their gear and waved down one of the Abrams.

Chef dashed out of the bushes with his pants halfway up and tumbled around for a quick second until he got his bearings. He grabbed his gear from under a tree and hastily waddled over to the tank that had stopped.

A man with a tanker helmet popped his head out of the turret and looked at the three men that stopped the armored column.

"What the hell are you doing?! Get outta the way!" he yelled.

"We need to talk to a Major Riley! We're supposed to hitch a ride over to the water and power building with your column. Orders from command! "

"Damn army grunts…" the tanker said as he slid back into the turret like a mole and reappeared just as fast. "You guys Bravo 1? And im assuming the grunt that ran out mid shit with his pants down would be the legendary Captain Dillinger?"

"That's us. Well I MEAN…Im not Captain Dillinger but yeah. Are we good to go?" replied Altman

Captain Dillinger zipped his pants back up and shook his head in anger and embarrassment "Fucking turtle heads" he said to Anton and Altman as me pushed them aside and waddled up to the tank.

"Yea, its Bravo 1." Chef said.

"Major Riley has given the okay. Welcome aboard the Riley's Raiders" he said as he readjusted his helmet. "Get in one of the APCs, that's the best we can do to accommodate you folks."

* * *

 **Part III**

* * *

Anton and Altman hopped on the APC behind the Abrams they stopped first and helped Chef get in. It was definitely a tight fit. The tank column returned to normal speed and zoomed down the highway onto Route ride had been pretty uneventful, as there was little if any resistance in the countryside. All Erusean troops seemed to have concentrated in the inner areas of Old Town, San Profetta airport, and New Town to defend critical areas. A red glimmering haze could be seen coming from Old Town as the armored column raced towards the city.

Anton could hear the chatter coming from his radio.

"This is Tango 3, entering the government plaza and fighting on Route 7 near the arch!" someone yelled. A frantic message on the radio buzzed "Tango 7 here, were stuck in a mine field on the highway…were stuck… choppers incoming! Where the fuck is our air cover goddamn it?!", before going silent.

Chef had been listening into his radio as well and was listening in on the chaotic inferno that had erupted in Old Town. The operation had already begun and the team had failed to get to the water and power building on time. The 2nd Mechanized Army battalion met up with the tanks to support the push into Olde Town.

The ISAF troops finally entered the inner upper class suburb areas of Olde Town and it was met with heavy resistance. Anton Chef and Altman jumped off the APC when the tank ahead exploded in a plume of red hot flames. ISAF troops broke their scattered column formations and ran off toward cover. The small arms fire was met with the loudest thunderous bang Anton had heard since the landing operations months ago. The sound reverberated through his chest and eardrums so strongly that he had to quickly kneel down to maintain his balance. Then a large slam was heard as a whole apartment building straight ahead toppled down, taking all of the Eruseans inside down with it. They looked like burning red ants as they tumbled through the rubble. The three members of Bravo 1 kept to using the back end of the Abrams for cover as the column continued firing on towers and stone buildings along the way toward Old Town center.

A tank gunner popped his head quickly and observed the damage through his binoculars.

"Hey were breaking off here, were heading that way!" yelled Chef at the gunner.

The gunner quickly acknowledged Chef and popped back into the tank. The squad ran over to cover across the street.

The tank column was on its way again and split up in a pincer maneuver in order to encircle the Erusean strongpoint ahead.

With his M16, Anton popped off a couple shots into windows but it was so dark he couldn't confirm kills. His heart was racing as he heard the screaming of a jet engine and peered into the starry sky interspersed by a distinctive yellow streak across the sky that flashed before his eyes.

"Woooah…is that ours?!" Altman asked Chef.

"No way….that was a Yellow! We're breaking off here from the tank column, DOUBLE TIME TO THE POWER STATION! Follow me!" screamed Chef, nearly out of breath.


	2. Chapter 2

A thunderous orchestra of anti air fire erupted all around Bravo 1, illuminating the whole neighborhood.

The pudgy man dashed down a dimly lit street, quickly glanced at his map and signaled the squad to huddle up.

"Give me coms Anton, stat!

Anton handed him his radio. Chef quickly snatched it, cleared his throat and set the radio frequency. Anton looked back at the tank column in the distance. An infantry unit had moved in to support the tanks as they pushed through the Erusean resistance that was past what was left of the apartment complex. In the distance, he could see the iconic San Salvacion Peace Arch draped in Erusean banners.

"This is Bravo 1, over. We're Oscar Mike toward waypoint Foxtrot, nearing the water and power department building in Old Town" responded Chef. "Is Bravo 3 still going with us to assault the power station? My squad is at half strength!"

"Major Franco from Bravo 3 here, we are good to go to assault the objective. Meet us at the corner of Donner and Gratitude Street near waypoint Foxtrot. Resistance forces are currently engaging Erusean soldiers and sympathizers holding out in the Water and Power building, double time it Dillinger."

"On our way!" rasped Chef. "Let's get our boys some air cover!"

/GaA2Vvv

The squad assumed a wedged formation as they dashed down the streets, M16's up to their shoulders ready to fire upon anything lurking in the shadows of burnt out homes. Most of the homes were either trashed and ransacked or burnt out due to artillery fire. Most of the civilians had either taken up arms, escaped into the countryside, or were in shelters. The squad rushed past a burnt out Erusean machine gun nest and burnt Erusean bodies, destroyed by resistance molotovs. As they got closer to the Water and Power building, the burnt bodies and husks of torched armored vehicles multiplied. In the distance Anton could hear the pings, cracks, and screams of a nearby shootout. Chef looked back and signaled the squad to take a knee.

"Sir I think we took a wrong turn…we should've met with resistance fighters already." mentioned Anton. Chef looked at Anton, then at Altman's worried face, and nodded.

"Anton, security." Signaled Chef as he rushed up ahead with Altman and took cover next to a burnt APC. Chef peeked out for a second and motioned the all clear. Anton rejoined them and they reassumed formation as they inched closer to their destination.

"I see it, the building. Its down this street." Said Altman.

The area was much more industrial with various tunnels and overpasses which caused a dizzying pattern. Through the smoke and orange hue, they could see silhouettes of armed men.

"Eruseans…?" whispered Anton.  
The squad pulled their M16s up to their cheek ready to fire. The armed gunmen saw them and opened fire first, striking Anton in the leg. Anton yelped in pain as his body slammed to the ground.

"ANTON NO!" screamed Altman as he began firing at the gunmen in a frenzy. Chef took the opportunity to dash out and drag Anton off the street. Chef took cover behind a concrete slab. Fire from the gunmen was pulverizing the crumbled concrete.  
"Altman, use your hand grenades!" yelled Chef through the deafening gunfire as the gunmen charged forward and took cover.  
Altman threw two hand grenades toward a ditch where the assailants were taking cover, blowing off the legs of one of the gunmen and severely injuring two others.

Just then a screaming cackle from Altman's radio emerged. "Dillinger this is Bravo 3 we are being overrun! I repeat, we are being overrun! We need you NOW!"

Two yellow streaks flashed above the squad and unleashed a firestorm up ahead on the other side of the Water and Power Building.

"Chef! THE BUILDING IS RIGHT UP AHEAD! WE NEED TO GET THERE NOW!" shouted Altman.

About two dozen gunmen ferociously poured out of two large doors of the Water and Power Building down the street. There was no sign of Bravo 3.

Chef handed Anton a rifle. "Stay here and don't stop shooting."  
Chef got up, looked at Altman, loaded a magazine, and attached his bayonet.

"One….two…THREE!" screamed Chef as he and Altman simultaneously pulled out of cover and charged directly at the Eruseans. Altman charged in like a madman through the left flank, lobbing grenades straight in front of him to open a path until he reached the ditch. Chef charged the right flank and blew through two magazines, dropping about ten Eruseans like flies. Anton began firing into the smoke and dust. The barrel was overheating, burning his palms but he kept firing at the Eruseans as they came out of the building in the distance. Thick smoke and dust ruined his visibility until he could no longer see 5 meters in front of him. When the smoke cleared, only the bodies of the Eruseans remained but Chef and Anton were nowhere to be seen. Anton laid there in the dark damp floor as he bled from his leg.

"Oh fuck please God don't tell me they're dead please…please…please" he whispered to himself as he frantically bandaged his leg. He collected himself and took a deep breath. The bullet had lodged itself into his thigh muscle but luckily spared his bone. Anton could hear shooting once again within the Water and Power Building.

"Theyre alive!" Anton thought. He grabbed his rifle and hobbled over toward the building. Suddenly, the shooting stopped. Moments later, as if by a miracle, the skies of San Salvacion lit up with a beautiful glimmering light. Chef and Altman had done it. Mesmerized, Anton placed his rifle to the side, looked up at the shimmering skyline in the distance, and smiled. Altman dashed back outside from the building to get Anton and found him like madman laughing at the sky.

"Hey were not done yet ya fucken maniac! Get your gat and set up in the building." Said Altman.

Anton quickly snapped out of his trance and dashed into the building with Altman. The building was very extensive, but mostly empty. There were two sets of stairs that led from the main warehouse catwalk into a second floor part of the building where most of the offices were. The offices were nearly empty except for the few desks and computers that were left untouched by the fighting. The only way to the generators was through the offices and across an exposed bridge that led to a second smaller complex with a lift that led to the subterranean power generators.

"Our job is done here. Whats going on man? "asked Anton.

"Resistance forces met us up in the building and are saying there is a huge detachment of Erusean armor that got out of a fight with Tango 1 and 2 and are moving in on our position. Command thinks that the Eruseans are regrouping and coming to take back the Water and Power Building. Luckily, Bravo 3 made it out in one piece…for the most part… and we've got a good amount of well armed resistance fighters with us" responded Altman as they both entered the offices where Chef was talking to Bravo 3 and the resistance leader.

Major Franco, the leader of Bravo 3 was a scruffy, lanky man with a short temper that rivaled Chef's. The resistance leader went by the alias Amanda Inuguez and her temper was just as bad. Organization was a disaster as the three argued over their egos and who should go where. The men that had assembled in the warehouse were growing impatient and resistance fighters began leaking out of the AO. Altman, fed up with the bickering, left the three to argue between themselves and went to organize defensive positions.

In a last ditch attempt to rationalize the situation, Anton announced to the three, "Get it together, the three of you! Cant you see we are going to get steam rolled and…" Anton's plea fell to deaf ears. Anton grabbed a radio, wobbled angrily over to the warehouse where the bulk of the forces were waiting for orders.

"Hey what the hell are you doing?!" screamed Major Franco as he marched over to Anton, who was ordering Franco's and the resistance's force around.

"Im doing YOUR job." Anton snarled as he went back to the radio

"Keep your animals in line Dillinger! What is this barbarity? Do you let your men take advantage of you like this?" Franco rambled. Chef gave Anton a good stare down but then shifted his gaze toward Franco. His stern face birthed a rare smile and like an overflowing dam, released a hearty chuckle that echoed through the offices and reverberated throughout the warehouse. The men of Bravo 3 looked at the flustered and bewildered Franco and bursted out in laughter as well as they went to take their positions.

Anton and Altman looked at each other in confusion but gave each other a quick grin and went back to work right after.

"Is this radio working?" Anton announced through the radio. Everyone in the warehouse gave a thumbs up.  
"Ok…um." Anton stayed quiet as everyone stared at him. Chef stared at Anton, wondering if he was choking up with the pressure. Anton cleared his throat.  
"Bravo 3. I am going to need two of you to work with resistance forces and help me coordinate the defense once the Erusean armor comes. You guys are best equipped for anti-armor operations so set up defensive position here. The other half will go to the offices on the second floor and act as overwatch. Take a couple sniper crews with you if you can find any, get some radios, and plenty of anti-armor ammo. Is anyone a demolitions expert?"

A young resistance fighter in the distance raised his hand along with a member of Bravo 3.

"Okay, you two are going to need to set up explosives on the bridge leading to the lift. If we fall here, blow the bridge and take the lift down. Hey Chef…you, the Resistance leader, and Major Franco can take some men and go to the lift right now. You'll be the last line of defense. If the bridge doesn't blow but you hear the lift coming down and there is no radio response from any of us, light it up. We cannot let anyone get to the generators and power them off."

"I think thats a damn good idea" said Chef smiling as he looked over at Amanda and Franco.

"But…what would stop the Ruzzies from blowing a hole in the second building and avoid the bridge all together?" asked one of the resistance members inquisitively.

"Well if they destroy the building they risk destroying the lift and the power stays on. Any more questions? The Eruseans will be here any minute…" Anton said before being cut off by an explosion that dented in the warehouse door.

"Weve got TANKS!" screamed a resistance officer from the offices.

"Everyone move now!" screamed Anton into the radio as everyone chaotically went to take up their positions.

Resistance forces began setting up barriers and closed the warehouse door, locking it shut and securing it with metal beams despite being fired upon by small arms fire.

Chef and the others dodged a hail of bullets as they dashed across the bridge and into the lift. The demolitions experts began their work while under cover.

The rumbling of distant tanks could be heard in the distance. A machine gun team went up to the roof to set up and give covering fire while everyone else assumed positions near any opening they could. Anton took a position at one of the windows looking out at a highway from the countryside. A column of Erusean tanks supported by at least 50 foot soldiers raced down the highway in the distance. Just then, armored jeeps pulled up and began shooting their guns point blank at the windows, killing at least 15 resistance fighters instantly and sending many running off to take cover.

"Anti-armor team on level 2, fire at the jeeps!" Altman said on his radio as he rushed over through machine gun fire to get an RPG on the floor. Altman quickly disposed of the jeep shooting at the window and ran back to the window. An Erusean threw a grenade inside the warehouse windows, instantly killing a dozen men. At this point, many of the troops began funneling back to the catwalks and into the offices. The squad up top had done a fair amount of damage, taking out armor at key locations to slow the flow of Erusean reinforcements coming from the highway. The rumbling of armor was still getting closer. Suddenly, an Erusean tank plowed through the warehouse doors with a thundering slam; Erusean troops flooded into the warehouse from the sides as troops fell back. Anton and Altman ran through the dust and machine gun fire to the top floor. Erusean snipers had stormed resistance positions and taken positions in buildings adjacent to the warehouse and were firing into the offices. Everyone was in disarray.

Adrenaline kicked in and Anton ran down the hallway toward the bridge and got on his radio screaming "HQ we need air cover! We are losing the power plant! We need help!"

As he ran toward the bridge, he saw that the demolition experts crumpled next to explosives that hadn't been wired.

"Are you fucking KIDDING ME?" yelled Anton in desperation. "Defend your positions until the air cover arrives!" The wound in his leg had gotten worse as he tried fumbling around with the wiring hoping to set it up but it was to no avail. Eventually, all Anton could do was lay down next to the bomb.

Anton could overhear some announce "We are going down the lift! Don't shoot!" over the radio to which he quickly snapped "No! Hold…positons!"

Remnants of Bravo 3 and resistance survivors completely ignored him as they ran across the bridge and took the lift down. Now Anton was completely cut off.

Eruseans were now in the offices, shooting anyone that moved, even the wounded.

A strange figure emerged from the corner of the offices. He and Erusean patches but his uniform was unorthodox, like something out of a science fiction movie. He had a black gas mask contraption on his head with sleek body armor and an uncommon camouflage pattern that he had never seen on any Erusean. He was flanked by two Erusean officers armed with state of the art, sleek rifles.

"Don't come any closer...or Ill blow all you bastards up with me!" spat Anton as he revealed the huge bomb on his lap when they approached him on the bridge.

"Heh…and how do you plan to do that with an inactive explosive?" said the figure in an ominous voice. He then proceeded to kick Anton in his head. Anton's head slammed into the side of the chain linked fence around the bridge. For a moment, he could see silhouettes floating in the distant horizon.

"ISAF, this city will be your grave." The figure said as he stomped on Anton's back and proceeded toward the lift.  
The Eruseans began crossing the bridge and Anton reached for his pistol to buy the men below time. Suddenly, an earth shattering rumble hit, throwing everyone to the ground and debris sky high.

watch?v=UANlAn2AbqM

"Sir, IT'S THE ISAF RIBBON! And he brought an ISAF division with him!" one of the Eruseans announced frantically on the radio. "Youre going to get surrounded sir!"

"Anti Aircraft fire NOW! We need to move our armor out of this death trap! Where is Yellow Squadron?!" barked the shadowy Erusean soldier. "Launch the Blackjacks! If we can't have this city, NOBODY WILL! Evacuate the propaganda minister with the rest of Red Cell. Everyone else, lets pull out of here!"

The Eruseans dashed out of the warehouse under fire from arriving ISAF tanks and air cover. The aircraft had finally made it and were giving the Erusean forces on the highway hell.

Anton laid on the bridge and murmured "The ribbon…" as he saw the legendary F-22 soar above, a protective angel in the twilight, arrows of light erupting from its wings.

Messages flooded Anton's radio as he laid there for an eternity, in and out of consciousness. The distant explosions and rumbling kept him from going dark.

"This is Bravo 8…..Old Towne secured! New Town Resistance forces, the Nat…onal broadcast building… is safe, the cit…. is ours!

"This is Andrew Wolske reporting to you live from community broadcast! That was an ISAF tank that just passed by us. There are tanks gathering on the highway. It looks like the Erusean tanks are retreating!"

"Mobi…1…..I repeat, Skyeye has confirmed bogies down!"

Everyone emerged from the lift ecstatic, hugging each other and cheering. In the distance ISAF forces streamed through, taking Eruseans prisoners, and cheering. Civilians got out of whatever makeshift shelters and cried, just happy to be alive and free.  
As they got out of the lift, they saw Anton's weak body on the floor of the bridge.

"Anton..! Someone get a medic!" Altman yelled out to ISAF troops on the street.

"Im alright…I got it" Anton stumbled, barely holding his own.

"Didn't think you had it in ya kid…youre gonna be fine just hold on a little longer!" Chef said with a tender smile. "Someone get a medic goddamn it!" he screamed into the distance as he ran off onto the street.

One of the soldiers from Bravo 3 and Major Franco stabilized Anton and helped him onto a stretcher.  
Anton weakly grabbed his radio and tucked in next to him. The thunder of rumbling jets in the distance could be heard once more, but this time, under their own skies.

"Andrew Wolske reporting in. The fighters that shot down the bombers are passing over us now. The Erusean officer in charge of censoring broadcasts has evacuated as well. Now we can shout 'Victory is ours!'" cackled through Anton's radio. All of San Salvacion was listening to the reports and Anton could hear cheers coming from all around him. The church bells of San Salvacion rang the ISAF national anthem in complete harmony with a citywide chorus singing. They were finally free.

Anton looked up at the sky once more and saw a flash of the ribbon before he drifted to unconsciousness. 


	3. Chapter 3

Tears, Blood, and Glass

July 12th, 2005  
1231 Hours

Altman walked down the battle scarred streets of Old Towne's main square. Ash, crumbled brick, shell casings, blood stains, and garbage littered the cracked streets. People were slowly returning only to find that most of their homes had been blown to the ground. Escaping Eruseans and good-for-nothing criminals had ransacked and looted homes after the battle, leaving many with nothing but the clothes on their back. As Altman slouched past the market square, he could see ISAF troops distributing ISAF and Osean relief supplies that had arrived to aid refugees. Despite the dire situation, the returning civilians were celebrating, with smiles on their faces and waving ISAF flags. Altman drooped his head and entered an old bar near the main square that he had been here each day since he got a week's worth of leave. The bar unusually full. He took his usual spot where his ass had basically molded the seat and called for the bartender to give him the usual drink, half a bottle of whiskey. It was a strange feeling being sounded by so many people, yet feeling completely alone. People kept pouring in as Altman poured more drink. Flashes of the raid a few days earlier hit him like a brick. Quietly, Altman hoped that he would see Santi, Squid, or Simple in the crowd and they would be able to laugh at Squid's rude, stupid jokes or Simple's funny Chef impersonations. "It wasn't worth it." He mumbled as his heart contracted and condensed.

Altman felt terrible as he gulped down the watered down whiskey. In a strange way, he secretly envied the civilians. If all went according to plan, the now broken Erusean army would continue its retreat deeper into Erusean and Delarus territory. These civilians would no longer experience the war from the front lines ever again. He was getting sick of the war, fast. He felt like he should have been celebrating like the rest of the ISAF troops but he just didn't have it in him. After obtaining some leave, what was left of the squad remained in San Salvacion. Chef went to a lakefront party the officers were having to get piss drunk and Anton was still in the hospital currently undergoing surgery, leaving Altman all alone to spiral down into a maddening depression.

Altman reached into his pocket to pay the bartender for another drink but as he reached into his wallet, his fingertips touched coarse paper. It was a photograph with an address on the back. It had an address based in New Town that he had written. Altman had family in San Salvacion and Erusea prior to the war. The only immediate family that survived the Ulysses incident was his father and some extended family that he never talked to. After he joined the military, his father basically excommunicated him. The exchange wasn't pretty and ultimately, Anton and his father never made amends. All he had left of his dad was the small picture he kept in his wallet of when the family went together on a trip when his father went on a business trip to the beaches of Erusea before the war, before Ulysses. Altman took another swig from the bottle. "Maybe it's time…" he mumbled to himself as he placed down the whiskey and stumbled up to his feet. He pulled out some cash to the bartender as he passed by a bunch of rowdy ISAF air force guys that were celebrating and crossing out the phrase "kill counts" that some Eruseans had written on the wall prior to the liberation of the city. They spat on the wall and scratched in their own kill counts as they proudly hummed the Usean anthem. Altman focused into the crowd and swore he saw a tall pilot with auburn hair writing in "Ribbon Kill Counts" followed by "Mobius 1" as people cheered. Altman tried looking closer to see if it was the legendary Mobius 1 but there were so many people still flooding in that his view was ultimately blocked and he gave up. As he exited out of the bar, the sunset began to take over the horizon. His shadow dragged him down as he fumbled toward the main street. Altman hailed one of the few taxis that were operating once again and gave the man the address.

"New Town is pretty blown to bits. I can get you to the general area but I probably won't be able to find the exac…" the taxi driver said before getting cut off by Altman.

"Do you want to get paid or not? Take me there." Altman responded in a hoarse voice and he gripped the neck of the whiskey bottle.

"Okay, okay, got it. Sorry!" responded the taxi driver quickly as he propped open the door for Altman.

Altman stayed silent throughout the trip to New Town. Lights flashed in the distance from the downtown area once more. The taxi drove through the main highway the squad had taken on their way over to Old Town. The taxi was instructed to slow down as tanks and military trucks carrying troops and supplies crossed them on the opposite side of the highway.

"They are probably being rushed over to the border of Delarus and San Salvacion. I hear the Eruseans are gaining ground again. What's really going on? " asked the taxi driver. He was met with silence.

"I guess you're not supposed to talk about that stuff, are ya? I'm no 'rusean spy or nothin' but fine. " the old man said to himself.

Altman stared at the old man quietly. The taxi began to take up speed as it finally passed the convoy as Altman ground his teeth.

Altman remembered how the car he was in rushed down the same highway just a few days ago. He started having a panic attack in the back seat as he gripped onto the seat and door handle. He started to sweat even more than the alcohol could and decided that closing his eyes was the only option. He gripped the photograph in his wallet.

"You okay?" said the alerted taxi driver. "You don't look good at all, like you saw a ghost or somethin'."

"I'm….fine. Really." said Altman as he slowed his breath and loosened his grip.

After about a half hour, the taxi driver pulled up to the side of the road.

"I'm going to be honest. I have no idea where this place is. I've brought you to the general area but I'm not exactly sure where this address is" said the taxi driver.

Altman ignored the taxi driver as he stared out the window. With his gaze elsewhere, he handed the taxi driver whatever bill he had left in his wallet and walked off.

"Hey thanks!" the taxi driver said as he was handed a 100 mark note and started up his old car and drove off into the darkness of the highway.

Atlman stared out into a wasteland. The blackjacks that flew over the skies that night during the battle must have dropped a payload onto that area of the city before being shot down. Altman dashed down the hill and ran through the barren empty lots that were once homes and shops. Only a rescue crew's lights could be seen in the distance, shimmering in a sea of soot and dust. Out of sheer luck, Altman looked at a street curb and saw numbers that nearly matched the address on his photo. He finally reached the address on his photo, but there was not even an indication of a home.

Altman frantically ran back and forth across the street in disbelief. The rest of the lots had indications of wood or other materials from the homes. Nearly out of breath, he ran back toward the address. There was not even an indication of a foundation at the address.

"THAT FUCKING BASTARD! GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!" Altman screamed as he threw the whiskey bottle toward the empty lot and shattered. The glass glimmered in the moonlight as Altman fell to his knees, defeated. Tears streamed down Altman's cheeks as he clenched the glass on the ground. He buried his head in his arms as blood from his hands streamed onto the floor. His body shook as it held in the wails that begged to escape.

Flashlights in the distance inched toward him slowly soon after. Altman clenched his teeth in anger as he got up and brushed himself off. Two ISAF troops near the rescue area had dashed over once they heard Altman's screams.

"Oh my god…are you alright?" said one of the ISAF troops visibly shaken at the image of an enraged man with blood on his hands in the dark.

"Who lived here? Where are they?" said Altman as he glared at the ISAF soldier.

The ISAF soldier fumbled around and brought up a roster. He looked at the address on the curb and then at the roster. "Uhh…nobody? There hasn't been anyone living here for about 20 years I believe. It's registered to a Joseph Ashbury. Why?"

"I knew it! I fucking KNEW it! It was too good to be true…" said Altman as he stared out to the lot and then the photo.

"Let's get you some medical attention…come with us. You're cut real bad. We'll sort out your problem later, remember there are still people coming back to the city slowly." said the other ISAF soldier as he reached toward Altman. Altman threw the photo out onto the lot as he gave himself up to the ISAF soldiers.

"No…he's gone. They're all gone…" Altman said softly as he stumbled away. His gaze went blank as he put his head down and tucked his bleeding hands into his armpits. 

Part II

July 13th, 2005  
1120 Hours 

Chef walked down the hall as he exited the emergency wing. He entered a small office where he found Altman in a trance. His hands were bandaged up and he had been placed on an IV.

"So what happened? Everyone's saying you went completely nuts last night and it was no alcohol rage", said Chef.

Altman stared at his hands quietly, motionless.

"Hellooo in there..!" said Chef sarcastically.

A nurse walked in once she heard Chef yelling at Altman.

"Excuse me sir…but he's probably sedated. He's on pain medication. Also, you're going to disturb our other patients ", the nurse whispered.

"Whatever, tell me what happened to him." Chef responded abruptly as he stared at Altman.

"A few ISAF troops that were a part of a rescue team down in New Town brought him in with deep cuts in his hands and arms. It's like he was laying on glass or something. Not to mention he was…intoxicated beyond belief. We had to put him on pain medication and rehydrate him." She responded softly as she stared at the mute, dazed Altman.

"Look at me Altman." Chef said to Altman as he got closer. "LOOK. At me. Altman."

Altman continued in his trance, looking at his hands. "Sorry…" he muttered.

"What was that?" Chef asked in annoyance. He stormed off toward the door "Fuck this! You want to kill yourself on an alcohol binge and leave me all alone, fine!"

"Alone?" Altman said as he slowly raised his head toward Chef's direction.

Chef looked at the nurse and they both nodded. The nurse exited the room and closed the door as Chef got closer to Altman. His tough demeanor crumbled as he closed in on Altman.

"Yes, alone." Said Chef quietly as he looked at Altman and then down at the floor. "Anton didn't make it. I'm…sorry Altman…he's gone."

A soft "No…" escaped Altman's paralyzed lips. "Santi? Simple? Squid?"

"Haven't heard from them…I tried contacting Phillipe but I got no response. I went to Santos and he says there are still rescue crews in their area but it's not looking good. For all intents and purposes, they are registered as KIA. I didn't want to tell you this right now but I felt like it was unfair to you if I kept it from you. Plus, I'm not one to keep secrets from people." replied Chef.

"You wouldn't keep secrets from me, would you… Altman?" Chef added.

"N…no. I wouldn't." replied Altman as he slowly returned to a trance.

"So who is this?" Chef said, holding the photograph Altman had thrown away the night before.

"I don't know…who is that?" asked Altman monotonously.

"Don't play stupid with me Altman. You know. The ISAF rescue crew that found you last night said you had this on you. I know." said Chef sternly.

"I don't know." Altman replied as he stared at the photo. His heart began to beat faster and faster as Chef's judging eyes met his. Chef then looked out a window in the room across from Altman's toward a black van in the parking lot and then back at Altman.

"Why don't you want to tell me Altman…what have you done? How does it feel to have killed so many people?" said Chef as he continued to stare and his anger began to boil.

"I DON'T KNOW!" screamed Altman as he snatched the photo got up and leaned forward to punch Chef right on the jaw. Chef dropped to the ground, bewildered. Altman ripped out the IV from his forearm and made a run toward the door.

"Get him!" yelled Chef as he got his bearings and pulled out a pistol he had on him.

As Altman exited the door, he was met with ten rifles aimed at his head. His legs trembled as he slowly raised his arms. A soldier dashed over, handcuffed him, and took him away to a military vehicle.

Santos appeared through the crowd of soldiers. "Hey private! He's coming with us." He said as he motioned for the soldier to bring Altman to the unmarked van that had Chef had seen. Two armed men with sleek rifles and ISAF patches appeared from the van and escorted Altman in and drove off.

Chef walked over to Santos as the soldiers began to disperse.

"What's all this about?" Chef asked. "I was supposed to hand him over to the military police for further questioning. Everything was already set."

"Can't tell you buddy. All I can say is that this goes way beyond your security clearance. Probably even mine actually." Santos replied as he scanned the area. "These orders came from the top, Chef."

"I had no idea I had a rat in my ranks. To be honest, I don't even know the full story. All I know is that he had leaked plans for the San Salvacion raid to Erusean spies. I still have no idea how to piece everything else together." said Chef.

"No worries, everything will be resolved soon. Get your head up Chef, you did your best, believe me!" Santos said as he began to walk off.

Santos stopped abruptly and turned his head. "Actually, I have some good news believe it or not." added Santos with a slight smile.

"What, more leave time for me? I deserve it man." said Chef jokingly as he tried to lighten his somber mood.

"No no no, we still need you out there you clown. But don't worry, you won't be going back alone. A rescue team got back to me this morning. They found some people you might be interested in taking with you to Farbanti." said Santos with a smile.

"Seriously? You're not bullshitting me are you?!" chirped Chef/

"Nope!" replied Santos as he let out a chuckle.

"YES! I knew my boys made it! I knew it! I knew it!" Chef said as he danced around the parking lot like a gleeful mad man and punched the air a couple times before he regained his composure. "Where are they?!"

"They're back at base waiting for you! Now get outta here you crazy fool, you've had a rough day." Santos replied as he caught his breath from laughing.

Chef rode back to base on a troop transport quietly, but this was a rare moment for him. War and anguish had taken its toll on Chef, but this moment was different. At this moment, his heart was full of joy.


	4. Chapter 4

San Profetta Airport

1732 Hours

Chef looked out at the horizon. The orange afternoon sun bathed the road and dilapidated buildings up ahead as the troop transport bumped its way to ISAF's forward base of operations near San Profetta Airport. The control tower was being rebuilt after the resistance had blown it to bits and military contractors had been on the tarmac all day reapplying cement to cover huge blast craters. As they neared the base, anti-aircraft guns sprouted up all along the main highway and around clusters of tents interspersed with tanks behind mountains of sandbags. Finally, the truck reached the gates of the main base. Chef wiped the sweat off of his face and licked the salty sweat off of his. As the troop transport halted at the main gate for inspection, Chef looked out toward a group of silhouettes standing near a medical tent. As the truck began to move again and he look a closer look and saw a big buff looking oaf that looked like Squid.

"Hey!" Chef yelled excitedly as he looked out of the truck…only it wasn't Squid.

The heavy man turned his head abruptly and snarled, "Who the fuck are you, asshole?"

Chef quickly tucked his head back into the truck, mumbling a quick "oops" in the process as he buried his head beneath his cap and tucked his hands in his pockets. The truck drove a little further toward a large white, bombed out hotel. As the truck finally stopped at the drop off area and Chef dismounted, a familiar voice said "What was that all about?"

Chef pulled his cap back up and said "Well look who's back from the grave!" as he walked over toward Santi and crushed him with a hug.  
"I could say the same about you…sir!" said Santi with a huff as he patted Chefs back. "Can you let me go sir? I can't breathe."

Chef quickly let go and pushed Santi off "Yeah, yeah, sure. Goddamn I didn't think you made it. You've got a lot of explaining to do. Oh and nice tattoo." he said as he pointed at a large bruise on Santi's forehead.

"Oh this thing on my head? Yeah I'm trying to get at the ladies on my time off." Santi replied sarcastically as he gave a little twirl.

"Time off? You mean these fucks are sending us back out," said Chef unenthused.

"Yeah. Like they say, if you got bread and bullets you gotta bring the heat," replied Santi.

"Can't bring the heat looking like you crawled out of the boxing ring. How's the other guys?" said Chef.

"Better than me," replied Santi somberly as he rubbed his forehead, "…anyway we should head over to our crap shack and dissect this week." Santi coughed nervously as he pointed over to a mass of tents.

"Crap shack sounds promising," said Chef as he followed Santi.

As they reached the tent city on the edge of the base, Santi twitched around.

"We heard about Altman," blurted Santi.

Chef face dropped. How much everyone knew about the mess, Chef had no idea.

"Oh…To be honest I don't know much…but I've got more bad news." Chef replied abruptly as he tried to quell Santi's suspicions.

"Well you know more than us that's for sure, all we got were whispers here and there" Santi said as he pulled back the flap of one of the tents, revealing a small, nifty setup. The barely illuminated tent gave off a dank sweaty smell. M16s glistened with the rare light that entered into the tent. In the center there was a small table Santi had salvaged from the dilapidated hotel that they were using to eat on with leftover takeout. Chef's eyes adjusted to the darkness as he stepped over crumbling cigarette butts until he saw a small orange ember hiding on one of the darkened bunks.

"Definitely crap shack material," said Chef.

"Hey! Cheffy!" yelled Simple in delight as he got up from the bunk he was laying on.

"I was hoping the Eruseans took you back to Farbanti," Chef said with a chuckle.

"Could say the same about you," Simple replied as he puffed on his cigarette.

"Squid?", asked Chef as he looked around.

"Probably with a lady friend… or man friend…I dunno his preferences", replied Simple with a smug smile.

Santi quickly cut him off. "Seriously Simple, stop dicking around." Simple, realizing the seriousness in Santi's tone, quickly sat up and looked around.

"You know I was initially pretty excited to see your stupid asses today, actually. You fucking blew it, as usual. Santi, where's Squid?", asked Chef with halfhearted playfulness and a hint of annoyance.

"I'm right here boss ", Squid said with a tray of gloppy brown, mush food in hand as he entered the tent. "I was getting grub…and not with a man friend." Squid quickly turned to a grinning Simple who was sitting on a bunk.

"More like dog food from the looks of it...ruff ruff!" replied Simple smugly.

"Git the fuck off my bunk, hick. Oh and look, you got cigarette ash all over my sheets!" he grunted as he toward Simple.

"All bark no bite, " Simple said mockingly, snapping his jaw into the air as he inched his butt off the bunk and took a seat on his own bunk.

"It's called muscle you fucking sack of bones…you know what? That's a better nickname." Squid replied before he was cut off abruptly by Chef.

"Shut up please? Its business time.", said Chef as he pulled up a chair, "I'll start first. I owe you miracle children that much anyways."

Chef motioned for someone to close the tent flap. Everyone knew this was going to be serious. Squid quickly closed the flap and took a seat on his bunk. Nothing but an orange hue coming from Simple's cigarette blanketed their faces.

"I'm going to be completely honest and blunt with you guys. Here's our squad's current situation. It's just us from now on." said Chef sternly as his eyes scanned the room. Everyone starred at Chef in silence and looked around at each other in confusion.

Chef again broke the silence. "Let's start with the worse news and get it out of the way."

"I thought Anton got into surgery okay though?" asked Santi as he stared at Chef.

"He did. But he never made it out. We talked for a bit while he was still alive though…he knew it was his time. He'd lost a lot of blood." Santi and Squid looked down in disbelief and shock.

"You're fucking with us right? If you're trying to scare me straight or whatever I get it, I won't joke around or nothin'," Simple said as his lip trembled, "Alright?"

"We made it to the power station and things got complicated. Ruzzies got the drop on us and were firing at us from all directions. Luckily, Anton took charge and it's thanks to him that we managed to get air cover on San Salvacion that night."

Simple nodded as he buried his face in his hands. He scratched his nose and snorted in the darkness. Santi noticed and walked over and patted him on the back.

"I'm good, I'm good." Simple said quietly as he sat pensively, puffing from his cigarette.

Chef broke the silence once more. "We all know he was our brother…but we need to keep going."

Squid got up and walked out of the tent silently.

"Squid. Squid! Get back here," Santi yelled out. Santi yelled as he nearly got out of his chair.

"Let'em catch a breath." Said Chef as he pulled Santi back into his chair.  
Chef cleared his throat once more. "There was something important he told me before he went to surgery, though. Something crazy."

"Back the other night, I had fallen back to a generator room with some of Franco's guys while Anton and a couple others fought back the Russies on an upper floor before he got shot up. I didn't see it but apparently he was nearly knocked into a goddamned coma by this… Erusean with some weird ass gear. Anton told me it looked like a cockroach torso with grey camo pattern."

"Could be some new body armor Russies are slowly phasing in," replied an incredulous Santi.

Chef pulled out hand drawn pictures on scraps of paper from his breast pocket. "That look like something Russies would mass produce? Uh-uh.

"Definitely not standard issue." Interjected Simple as he snatched the photos from Chef's hands. 

"I didn't believe him at first but he described it in vivid detail. He drew me pictures so I figured he wasn't drugged out of his mind or anything yet b the nurses," replied Chef as he angrily snatched the photos from Simple's ashy hands and passed them over to Santi.

"This looks familiar…guys did you see this?" said Santi quickly as he motioned for Simple to take a look at one of the drawings. They got up and looked at the picture silently. Suddenly in unison they looked at each other and nodded in agreement.

"Sir…Chef. Maybe it's our turn to explain what happened to us that night." said Santi softly as he looked at the picture of a black figure with armor and a gas mask contraption on its head. Chef turned and gave his full attention to Simple.

"So…after we crashed we were knocked out for a good while. When I woke up, Santi and Squid were out of the wreckage and taking cover from fire coming from a rooftop. Most of our gear went flying out of the window and our comms were trashed. The APC that had rammed into us was actually a trap set up by resistance to block off Erusean reinforcements to the area, but obviously we didn't know at the time. They told us later. Ironically, they ended up fucking us over in the end. Funny, huh?"

Chef rolled his eyes. "Just tell me what happened. And in order, you're fucking the story and we're only five seconds into it and I'm already lost."

Santi cleared his throat and took over. "Anyway, some resistance forces in Erusean uniforms swarmed the crash site and after realizing we were ISAF, helped us out and took us back to their hideout. They were supposed to take over Bravo 2's job since they ate shit when their HELO went down. Essentially, command, aka Santos, had told these bums with shotguns to conduct a frontal assault on Eruseans and secure a propaganda minister of some sort so since we couldn't get in contact with you, we…unanimously decided to help them."

Chef's face puckered up in anger. "Are you fucking kidding me? The MISSION comes first, Santi. As senior rank in the situation, you knew better. You should have tried to link up with us instead of leaving us like that! Our effective strength was literally reduced to half! Anton could've really fucking used your help out there!"

Santi sat frozen and stayed quiet. "Sorry…sir."

"Relax Chef. We tried radioing in but we got no response. We didn't know where we were…we were literally cut off. The best we could do would be to take out high profile targets in the area and do some damage…maybe alleviate some pressure from you guys. Know what Im sayin'? It was the best option we had." said Simple as he motioned over to Santi."Don't guilt trip Santi for Anton's death. He was under YOUR watch when he was killed, not ours….respectfully…sir."  
Chef opened his mouth as if he was about to say something but he just stared out in the distance and sat down quietly..

Santi pulled his head back up and continued. "No worries, I can see how you'd be pissed. I didn't follow protocol. But I can't fix that. Anyway, so…we were on our way to the propaganda minister's offices with about 2 or 3 squads and obviously, we didn't get too far before a welcoming party of hinds arrived. Some of the guys with RPGs stayed behind to cover us while our squad went into the building and began to clear the lower levels." Santi looked over to Simple and motioned for him to tell his part.

Simple put out his cigarette on the ashy desk. "Yeah. So I was leading another group of guys and we began covering the upper floors and clearing out some of the offices. We had the minister in our sights when… when we were ambushed by...those things," said Simple as he pointed to the drawing with the black armored figure.

He stared at the picture and rotated it as he lit up another cigarette. "They didn't fight like a normal Erusean unit that's for sure. They were like robots or something and the rifles they had were super high powered. Them shots tore through cement like a turd through wet toilet paper. Needless to say were tearing us a new ass hole when the lights suddenly turned on. They were vampires I guess because they ran off after that. We were kinda confused but radioed in for everyone to join us up on the highest floor. We managed to sneak up on them at the helicopter landing platform on the roof by using the elevator shaft. We were too late though. We managed to hurt one of the guys but he got back up and jumped on the helicopter before we could take him down. And to make matters worse, the RPG guys downstairs had gone gung-ho on the helis so there was no way to down the getaway chopper."

"I see…" replied Chef pensively.

"I overheard over someone on one of the radios that they left behind calling a 'Red Cell' so maybe that's another hint? We told Santos but he just shrugged it off and told us not to tell anyone." replied Simple.

"Now we are getting somewhere." Chef said as he began to link the events together. "Anton told me that the asshole in black armor had called for a 'Red Cell' to leave San Salvacion that night with a propaganda minister. We may be talking about the same bunch."

"We should talk to Santos about this. This could be serious." Santi said as he placed a wet rag on his purple forehead. 

"I think we should skip Santos and go straight to the head honchos. I'm talking the fucken ISIA boyos." said Squid as he took a bite out of his food.

"ISIA? Like the actual Independent State Intelligence Agency?! Don't make me laugh," replied Chef. "At best all we can do is keep this to ourselves. We don't know who's on what side right now."

"Yeah. Like Altman," mumbled Simple as he puffed on his cigarette. Santi looked at Chef, expecting him to say something. His wishful stare was met with Chefs worried beady eyes and tightened lips.

A "yeah" was all Chef squeaked out as his eyes shifted back to the drawings. He quickly pocketed them.

"I'm gonna go see where Squid ran off to." Chef got up and lifted the tent flap, showering the dingy tent with light.

"Really, Chef? You're just gonna ignore the elephant in the room?" snickered Santi hastily. "We know you were sent over to take him."

Chef hesitated and dropped the flap. He turned his head and replied "That don't mean they told me anything. I wanna know why he ratted us out just as much as you do." 

"I'd hardly call what he did simply 'ratting us out'," Simple responded angrily. "We could have seriously lost San Salvacion that night 'cause of him."

Chef stood at the door of the tent for a good moment. "If you need me I'll be with Squid."

Santi, out of the corner of the tent, interjected. "You always said the backbone of a fireteam was trust in your mates."

"Yeah, I did say that. So trust me." Chef opened the flap once more and replied, "Don't get your panties in a bunch over something you can't fix. We can't undo that night; we just have to live with that" before walking out.


End file.
